


If You Let Me

by ADreamIsASoftPlaceToLand



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Junoverse | Juno Steel Universe, Other, Sickfic, Softness, Tumblr Prompt, but mostly just softness, just a lil angst because it's jupeter and that's how they be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 20:37:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20588714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADreamIsASoftPlaceToLand/pseuds/ADreamIsASoftPlaceToLand
Summary: Nureyev is absolutely miserable. He hasn’t gotten sick in years, but on a recent job one sick hotel attendant had accidentally sneezed on him and it had all been downhill from there.





	If You Let Me

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt: sickfic and "I heard you talking in your sleep" requested by anon on tumblr  
title from Night Terrors of 1927 "Novocaine"

Nureyev is absolutely miserable. He hasn’t gotten sick in  _ years _ , but on a recent job one sick hotel attendant had accidentally sneezed on him and it had all been downhill from there. It had been all he could do to finish the job and return to the ship where the rest of the crew would be waiting for him. Where  _ Juno _ would be waiting for him.

Letting him onto the ship, Buddy had taken one look at him and said, “Vespa’s room.  _ Now _ .” He had sighed and dragged himself to the other side of the ship, where Vespa had set up a little medical ward. She’d checked him over, declared he had the flu, and ordered him to bed with a bottle of pills and a gentle nudge out the door. 

He’s not going to bed, yet, though. He’s got somewhere else he wants to be right now. Through the hazy fog that’s enveloping his brain he manages to shuffle his way through the halls to Juno’s cabin. He only manages one knock, really just lifting his arm until his fist bumps the door and against it, pressing his forehead to the door. This turns out to be a mistake as the door swings open almost instantly, and he tumbles forward into the room and into the chest of a surprised detective.

“Wha- Nureyev. Hey.” Juno’s arms come up to catch him, wrapping him in a soft and comfortable hug. “Why are you so warm?”

Juno grabs his shoulders and pushes Nureyev up a bit to look at him, and Nureyev tries to pretend he doesn’t hear the whine that escapes him as he’s forced away from Juno. “Shit. You look horrible, what happened?”

Nureyev manages a shrug and a vague noise of displeasure that he hopes conveys  _ I am terribly happy to see you, Detective, and that is not important right now. What is, in fact, important is that you are warm and comfortable and  _ ** _hold me, please_ ** **. ** He steps back forward and attempts to tuck himself into Juno’s chest again, which is a little difficult given the height difference. He manages instead to lean forward until his head rests on Juno’s shoulder. He closes his eyes against Juno’s comfortable sweater and sighs, barely resisting the urge to nuzzle into Juno’s neck. 

Juno huffs and reaches up to curl a cool hand around the back of his neck and walks backward, pulling him further into the room and closing the door behind them. “Alright, c’mon. Let’s get you into bed.” 

  
  
  


His dreams are never pleasant, but being sick adds a layer of absurdity to them that he can’t keep up with. In most of them, Juno is in some sort of peril, but Peter is trapped in a thick fog and can’t quite see him, can’t reach him. He calls out for Juno, promising he’ll come. Promising that he won’t let  _ anyone _ hurt Juno. Promising and running and fighting even when he can no longer see the detective through the haze. In one he thinks Juno might just be walking away.  _ Juno, wait for me. Juno, I’m coming. Hold on, Juno.  _

He wakes up to fingers gently brushing sweat-damp hair off his forehead, and carding through his hair. He lets his eyes stay closed but shifts to lean into the touch. Juno’s hand hesitates for a moment before continuing to run through his hair. 

“Are you awake?” Juno’s voice is soft, and a little closer than expected. He  _ mmms _ back, not quite awake enough for words yet, and too distracted by the fingers that are now gently massaging his scalp. 

“I heard you talking in your sleep,” Juno whispers, and Nureyev does open his eyes at that.

Juno is kneeling at the edge of the bed, one elbow resting on the mattress and supporting his head, the other draped across the pillow so he can reach Peter’s head. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but his throat is raw and aching and the words don’t come. He sniffles as indignantly as he can muster in response to this development, which only sends him rocketing up from the pillow into a sneezing fit. Juno leaps back to get out of the way, getting up and returning a moment later with a box of tissues. Nureyev takes the box and dabs at his nose with a tissue before flopping back onto the pillow in a dramatic pout.

Juno chuckles, and reaches out again, this time his hand rests on Nureyev’s forehead, feeling for the fever that hasn’t quite left yet. “You’re having a rough time, huh?” 

Maybe it’s just the fever. Maybe it isn’t. But Juno looks so endearing like this. Soft and gentle and warm. Nureyev doesn’t want to stop looking at him, but Juno’s hand pulls away and he can’t have that, so with the last surge of energy he has he launches a hand forward to catch Juno’s, and he pulls it back, pressing the cool fingers to his too-hot cheek. 

Juno brushes his fingers over his cheek, and he leans into them, closing his eyes again. His eyes open again when the hand pulls away, panicked for a moment that Juno is going to leave him to suffer alone. 

As if he can sense Peter’s panic, Juno reaches out to touch his face again and leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, just above his eyebrow. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” 

Juno pulls back again and shifts on the bed so that he’s leaning back against the headboard, and then turns to gently tug Nureyev towards him with a mumbled, “C’mere.” 

They shift and scoot around on the bed until his head is in Juno’s lap, and his arms are wrapped around Juno’s waist. Juno’s hand tangles in his hair again, and the other rubs soothing circles into his back. He drifts back to sleep as Juno whispers, “I’m here, Nureyev. I promise I won’t disappear. I won’t leave you. I’ll stay here with you as long as you want me.”

  
  
  


And he does. Peter stays sick and bedridden for the next week, and Juno never leaves his side for longer than a few minutes. Rita brings them both food and water, and gives him lots of sweets and tea with honey to soothe his sore throat. 

The spend the days just resting, Juno either cuddling him or sitting by him while he (rather valiantly, if he could say so himself) attempts to refrain from hacking up a lung. Juno tells him stories of his past jobs to pass the time, letting him rest his head in his lap, carding fingers through his hair, massaging the tension out of his neck and back. Juno helps him get from the bed to the bathroom and when he needs it, and stays close when, after 3 days of being bed-ridden, he demands the right to sit in the shower and get at least  _ slightly _ cleaner. 

He has long since forgiven Juno for what happened on Mars, Juno has earned his trust back in myriad ways since they reunited. He won’t deny that it’s nice, though, having the extra reassurance of Juno being so attentive. Juno’s been entirely devoted to him while he’s been sick, and that’s (if he’s honest) more than he deserves. He knows he’s a pouty brat when he’s sick - when you’re always  _ alone _ and sick you have no one to put on a front for. With Juno, though, he can mope to his heart’s content without worrying about being a bother. He knows Juno doesn’t mind. He’s not going anywhere. 

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on tumblr @shorter-than-her-tbr-pile


End file.
